


With You Always

by gray_autumn_sky



Series: Set in S6 [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 20:52:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15373089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gray_autumn_sky/pseuds/gray_autumn_sky
Summary: Robin’s soul stays with Regina after his death because of their connection as soulmates. Slowly his presence becomes stronger, until he's able to come back.(Prompted by a tumblr user, who wanted a "Voldemort-like return."





	With You Always

It happened first in New York with the letter—the letter tucked into the pages of  _Robin Hood: Myth and Legend_ , a book she’d given him before Storybrooke. It had been silly gesture, something to make him laugh—but also a parting gift that was meant to remind him of who he was and where he came from.  It was a sort of comfort as he struggled to adjust to the new, modern world. And when she’d found the volume on his shelf, it was odd comfort to her—a little piece of him that still remained.

She’d thumbed through the pages, smiling as the words reminded her of her thief and his heart of gold.

And then a page had fallen open and a letter addressed to her fell from the pages. She’s stared at it, her breath catching at the sight of her name in Robin’s handwriting. She’d slowly opened it, letting her finger slide slowly under the seal of the envelope, until her fingers could form around the thin contents. Drawing it out, she unfolded it, tears welling in her eyes as her read his words to her—words telling her that he was proud of her, that she had a good heart, that she was a hero, and most importantly that he loved her.

She read it once, then again, letting her eyes linger on the word love for a moment too long as warm tears brimmed in her eyes. All she’d ever wanted from life was to love and be loved, and he’d given that to her—he loved her and she loved him, more than she could ever possibly say. Taking a breath, she’d pushed away the tears and folded the letter back up and tucked it into her pocket, carrying his love with her as she left—carrying him with her as she left.

The next time it happened she was alone. They’d all just returned from New York. Henry had fallen asleep early and she’d taken a long shower, letting the hot water sooth her tired shoulders. Wrapped in a towel, she’d returned to her bedroom and opened the drawer, her heart skipping a beat when she found one of Robin’s shirts tucked inside of it. She reached for it, drawing it closer and inhaling deeply. It smelled like forest, she’d thought, as she hugged it close. And it made her feel like her was there. She’d pulled on the shirt and climbed into bed, holding him close.

It became something of habit after that, wearing his shirt to bed, and it never occurred to her that the smell never faded, no matter how many times she washed it. She didn’t think to question it—after all, it was one of the rare things she had that brought her comfort.

One morning she’d been alone in her office, trying to focus on some menial, but annual budgetary task, when she realized she needed a file. She’d spun around in her chair and reached for the filing cabinet, plucking last year’s records from a manila folder. And from the pages dropped a note scribbled on a paper scrap that read “ _I love you and hope you’re having a good day_.” It was the sort of note she’d drop into Henry’s lunches, but it was written in Robin’s writing. Her brow furrowed as she picked it up, running her thumb against the ink dried long ago—and she wondered why she was just seeing it now. Nonetheless, she easily arrived at the assumption it had fallen into the file the previous year—when Robin was alive and when they were happy. A soft smile stretched over her lips as she tucked the little note into her desk drawer—a little something from him to make her smile on a bleak day.

Her hands were still shaking as she slipped into a booth at Granny’s. For a moment, she just sat there—staring off at nothing, hands shaking as she tried to remind herself that she needed to keep breathing. She was vaguely aware of Granny sliding into the booth across from her, pushing a tea cup forward.

“Oh, I didn’t order…”

“You just look like you could use this,” Granny explained gently. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

Regina swallowed as her eyes slowly turned upward. “I…think I did,” she murmured. “It was like…he was right there,” she began as she retells the story of that morning. How her eyes had slowly fluttered open as finger combed gently though her hair. She’d smiled—and he was there. Robin was lying on the pillow beside her, smiling softly as she woke. His eyes were soft and sweet, full of love and so very real—and then she’d blinked and he was gone.

“Oh, honey…” Granny replied, squeezing her hand. “He is with you. He always will be.”

She’d only nodded—perhaps that was it.

It never occurred to her, so it hit her like a ton of bricks. It was supposed to be impossible; it was supposed to have been permanent. She’d mixed the potion herself and she’d felt what it had done to her—her regret had been immediate, but the effects couldn’t be undone, and she knew she’d just have to live with it. So, it never occurred to her when she began to display obvious symptoms that she could truly be pregnant. Yet, as she sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at the home pregnancy test, it was undeniable that she was.

She made an appointment to have it confirmed—and it was.

Tears welled in her eyes as the nurse gave her her due date, and she quickly did the math. A smile formed on her lips and her heart clenched as she remembered the night—a rare night alone, just before going to the Underworld. She’d been so tired and he’d stayed with her. He’d disappeared for while, tucking Roland into the spare bedroom that was quickly becoming his own and tucking his infant daughter into Henry’s old basinet which they’d placed in her bedroom. He’d expected to find her in there, but instead found her asleep before the fire in the living room. He’d kissed her to wake her up—tender and light, unwanting. It wasn’t the sort of kiss that would ordinarily lead to more, but it did.

She couldn’t explain it other than to say that true love really was the most powerful magic of all.

And then that evening, when she tucked herself into bed, she felt him beside her. His arm slipped around her and his hand settled at the small of her back as his head rested on her pillow. She kept her eyes closed, swearing she could hear him breathing beside her—soft and steady as though he were drifting off to sleep. She laid as still as she could, afraid that if she moved, the feeling would go away. But it didn’t—it remained all through the night; and she even heard the faint sound of his voice telling her that he loved her just before she drifted to sleep.

The façade or memories, or whatever it is came more frequently and stayed longer as the weeks passed. It made her feel like she was losing her mind, but it was also a comfort—knowing that she could still see him and feel him, even if was for just a passing moment here and there.

Then one night when dinner was in the oven and she was wiping down the counter, he hand caught on something and she froze. She pressed her eyes closed as she felt his fingers curl around her hand, and her heart clenched.

“I miss you,” she murmured.

“I’m right here, Regina,” he’d replied as his fingers tightened around her hand.

She’d gasped at the sound his voice, so clear and steady, so real. And when she’d looked over, he was smiling at her. Tentatively, she edged closer and his arm folded around her hips, his fingers rubbing gently over the subtle swell of her abdomen. She felt his lips press against her temple, and she closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to savor the feeling of having him so near.

“I’m always right here,” he said again, before slowly drifting away.

Her breath caught at the back of her throat and her eyes fluttered open—once more, he was gone. But this time, he’d left a thumb print on the back of her hand—physical proof that he’d really been there. And perhaps a sign that he was more than just a figment of her imagination. She’d blinked and then it was gone, and she was left to wonder if the thumb print had ever really been there. Taking a breath, she’d stared down at her hand and felt a stirring in her heart—and even though it defied all logic, she chose to believe that it had.

For awhile, it’s like their little secret—something that just the two of them share and it makes going on with daily life just a little bit easier. It seems everyone in town has commented, they’ve told her that she’s smiling more, that she seems to be coping—and what they really meant is that she doesn’t seem to be backsliding, that they’re glad to know she hasn’t turned back to the darkness. She’d nodded and smiled, and she agreed that she was trying her best, that she was healing—and she’d pretended that she wasn’t living this double life, pretending that she didn’t still feel him and see him and hear him everywhere, that she didn’t hold her breath when she’s alone and wait for him.

Robin never failed her her—not that he ever had—and he came to her more often. He was there to rub her back through morning sickness, to give her reassuring kisses after long days, to hold her until she falls asleep. It was no longer a surprise or caught her off guard; she’d come to expect it, to depend on it, and she’d found comfort in it. And while it wasn’t enough, it was something.

Deep down, she knew it was unhealthy to her to live like this, and she knew that it couldn’t continue this way forever. But wasn’t not until she was making tea one evening—with him leaning against the counter, chuckling softly as she mused about he’d always been better at making tea—that she got the push she needed to do something about it.

One minute, she was laughing and the next she was stumbling, trying to explain to Henry why she was up in the middle of the night talking to herself in the kitchen. It had been been easy enough to lie—she’d told him she hadn’t been able to sleep and was talking to the baby—and he’d believed her. But it was a reminder that things couldn’t go on this way.

Reluctantly, she made an appointment with Archie.

“It wasn’t like this with Daniel,” she’d explained as tears filled her eyes. “With Daniel, I felt the lost. I felt empty and alone, and there was an aching void where he’d once been.” She took a breath and let her eyes meet Archie’s as the confession fell from her lips. “But with Robin, he’s  _everywhere_.”

“Grief doesn’t always manifest itself in the same way. Just because you grieved one way when you lost Daniel, doesn’t mean you’ll grieve the same way when you experience another loss.” He paused and she looked away—he had misunderstood what she was trying to tell him. “You’re a different person than you were then. Your experiences are bound to be different.”

She nodded and listened, and for a moment, she thought to say nothing more. She knew how crazy it was all going to sound and, if she was being honest, she didn’t want it stop. But she told him about the letter in New York and the note in her office, she’d wondered aloud about how they just appeared when she needed them—just as the extra storybook page had once appeared. Archie smiled, but before he could offer an explanation, she continued to explain that it was more than just a feeling, that sometimes Robin was really there—she could feel him his presence next to her and she could hear his voice, and even more she could physically see him. She tells him how went from a few fleeting touches to conversations—for her, Robin was very much still alive.

“It’s almost like…he’s…a part of me.” She stopped and shaking her head. “I know that sounds crazy, but…” Her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she’d looked at Archie who was staring back at her with narrowed eyes. His head tilted and his lips pursed and for a brief moment, there was a glimmer of something in his eye. “You… _don’t_  think that sounds crazy,” she’d said slowly.

“We live in…a fantastical world, Regina,” Archie said simply. “Nothing sounds crazy to me.”

She watched as he stood and walked over to his bookshelf, carefully scanning the spines of the books before he’d plucked a thin volume from the shelf. “When Henry first started to believe we were all characters from his book of fairy tales, I started to do some research. I wanted to see if I could find…others.” He sat back down and handed her the book. “I think the story you’d be interested in is tabbed.”

With a cocked eyebrow, Regina opened to the page and scanned it. “ _The Dead Mother_?” She blinked. “That seems awfully cruel to give to a grieving pregnant woman.”

“It’s…about a woman who dies, but her soul remains with her husband and child,” Archie said gently. “I think…it might be helpful for you to read it. This isn’t exactly what you’re describing, but…it’s close.” He paused. “The ending is on the tragic side, so maybe skip that, but the main story…the main story is about what happens when your soul is connected to someone who dies.”

“But Robin’s soul was…obliterated,” she murmured back, as her eyes drop away from Archie’s.

There was a long pause between them and heard Archie sigh. “It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s story was told incorrectly. Just look at all of us.”

She left with the book tucked beneath her arm. Not wanting to be alone, she found herself in a booth at Granny’s; and she found that her usual order of tea arrived almost as soon as she sat down. She offered a grateful smile and Granny patted her hand, reminding to just ask if she needed anything. Again, she smiled and nodded, then opened the thin volume. She read of the mother who died in childbirth—giving her life for that of her child, and she felt a knot forming at the back of her throat. She continued on, reading about how the woman’s husband grieved, how the child wouldn’t eat, how he feared that he’d lose the last link to his beloved—and then miraculously, the baby had begun to thrive. He searched for the woman who fed the child, he’d wanted to offer her his gratitude—yet when he found her, he’s was stunned. It was none other than his beloved wife—her soul had lingered within the child to ensure the child received the proper care and love.

Tears filled her eyes and she thought of Robin—she thought of him stepping in front of her, protecting her from Hades. She thought of the way her hands shook and the way she’d stood helpless before him as he dropped to the ground, the life quickly draining out of him. And then his soul had risen up and reached for her—one final goodbye before vanishing.

She’d thought it had vanished forever—disintegrated into nothing. But her perhaps, she’d thought wrong.

Setting the book down, she took a breath and tried to keep her tears at bay as she considered the possibility of Robin’s soul within her. They were, after all, soul mates.

A few hours later, she canceled her next appointment with Archie.

Still, she didn’t tell anyone else about Robin. She knew what they’d think and she can’t say that she’d blame them—after all, it wouldn’t have been her first descent into madness. But she no longer felt like she was losing her mind or slipping away from reality, and for her, that was a comfort. She was used to people not understanding, used to having her secrets—and now she was getting used to having him.

He’s there with her more and more frequently, his presence seemingly growing strong and more independent as he stays longer and is often there waiting for her.

It’s raining and she has a headache—it’s the sort that lingers for days and that’s been happening with more regularity. She assumes it has something to do with balances of hormones and something that can be chalked up to the ever-growing lists of changes that pregnancy brings. But today, it’s particularly strong and she’s glad that Henry’s spending the weekend with Emma.

There’s a fire crackling and popping in the fireplace, radiating warmth into the room. She lies back with her eyes closed and tries to relax herself, smiling gently as she finds herself lying against Robin’s chest. His arms fold around her and he pulls her close, dropping intermittent kisses into her hair as his hand rubs gently over the growing swell of her abdomen. She sighs contently and tries to focus on his touches—tender and light, but so very real. She takes a breath and tries to ignore the splintering at her temples, trying her best to enjoy the quiet, intimate moment. She moves her hand over his and she smiles when she feels him—her fingers touching upon warm skin as he drops another kiss onto her hair.

And then she feels it—a soft flick against her side—and it makes her breath catch.

“Was that…the baby?”

She looks back over her shoulder and before she can say anything in reply, it happens again, once more causing her to gasp in surprise. She takes his hand and presses it closer. “I  _think_  it was.”

It happens again and this time, she watches a smile spread across his lips—bright and full, the sort of smile that crinkles at the corners of his eyes and warms her soul. “That’s… _incredible_ ,” he says, his voice hushed with a sense of wonder.

“It is—and it’s the first time I’ve felt it,” she murmurs as her fingers circle against the back of his hand and a sense of sadness fills her. Their child will never truly know its father, and Robin will never truly know their child. She feels a lump rising in the back of her throat, and all she can think of is everything that will be missed.

“I know,” he murmurs quietly as his arms tighten around her and before either can say anymore, the front door slams and no sooner than it does, Emma and Henry are staring before her with wide eyes. She blinks a few times, wondering what it is that they see. She doesn’t have to wait long…

Henry takes a tentative step forward and she watches as his eyes look slightly to her left, “Robin, how are you… _here_?”

Slowly, Regina sits up and looks from Henry to Robin, and finds he too is watching with wide, confused eyes. “You…can  _see_  me?” Henry just nods, as Emma continues to stare in disbelief. “I’m…really  _here_?” Regina watches as he processes the information and her thoughts momentarily drift to the story Archie gave her about connected souls, and she realizes the throbbing at her temples has subsided.

He’s there. He’s  _really_  there–not just a figment of her imagination or a manifestation of her grief, but really physically there with her.

Finally, a smile stretches over her lips and she nods. Tentatively, she reaches out and presses her hand to his heart, and she feels it beat—she hasn’t felt that before—and she exhales a breath she barely knew she was holding. She can feel the tears brimming in her eyes and she can see tears brimming in his as he stares at her in complete disbelief. “You’re here with me,” she says, as her forehead rests on his. “Always.”


End file.
